


I Need A Drink

by MostTulip



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season 4 Episode 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1836430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostTulip/pseuds/MostTulip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth's thoughts as she asks Daryl for a drink. A real drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need A Drink

**Author's Note:**

> My first Walking Dead fic. This is what I thought was probably going through Beth's head at this scene.

Daryl was silent again. He hadn't spoken much since the day before. Well, he hadn't spoken much since the prison. She couldn't understand why. She was talking, and she'd watched her dad's head get cut off by the Governor. It could have been because of everything that happened. Maybe being silent was his way of coping? Beth didn't know.

She finished her bit of rattlesnake. Eating rattlesnake; even in all  _this_ she'd never thought it would come to that point. They didn't have any food. There was no time to grab any when the prison was being attacked. Thankfully, she had Daryl. Without him, she would probably have never survived this long.

There wasn't much to do now. Daryl was the only one to talk to, and he wasn't saying anything. She didn't have Judith to take care of, or chores to do. She tried not to really think on everyone else, what they had before. As much as she tried to cling to the hope of it, Daryl was probably right. They weren't going to find anyone. Maggie was gone, Glen was gone, Judith was gone, Carl was gone. They were all gone, just like her mom and brother. And now her dad, too.

It had hurt. Seeing her father beheaded like that. It hurt, and all she could think about was how much it hurt and how much she wanted to kill the Governor. Maybe it would have been better if the prison had stayed in one piece. If that was all that had gone wrong. But Maggie had left her, and now Maggie was gone.

She wanted to cry. Why the hell did this have to happen? What had they done to deserve this? If there was a God, he was cruel and horrible. He had taken her mother and brother - her first family. Then He'd taken Rick, Maggie, Glenn, everyone else - her second family. She cared for them and He took them away. It  _hurt._

Suddenly, she had an idea. It was a stupid one. A  _really stupid_ one. But there wasn't anything to do, she was practically alone, and the world had gone to Hell. Her family was dead, and she needed something to make the pain stop for just a little while. Once wouldn't hurt.

Finding her courage, she said, "I need a drink." Daryl didn't say anything, just threw her the water bottle and continued to eat. That wasn't it.

"No, I mean a real drink." She moved the bottle to the side. "As in alcohol." Daryl wasn't looking at her. It was almost like she didn't even exist. She tried to keep a calm composure, but he was being very frustrating.

"I've never had one," she continued, "'cause of my dad. But, he's not exactly around anymore, so . . ." Her voice drifted off. The silence still reigned.

"I thought we could go find some." She sat there, waiting for his reply. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. A  _no_  would have been better than silence.  _I'm waiting for something that will never come,_ she thought to herself.

"Okay. Well, enjoy you're snake-jerky." Beth brushed off her hands and stood up, walking over to where Daryl sat to pick up the knife. She passed by him, and he still said nothing. _If that's how it's gonna be, then fine. I'll do it without you._

She left the little camp behind her, marching forward with what little confidence she had. She didn't need him. She could do this herself. She would find a house or something nearby, find some beer or whiskey, and she would have her first drink.  _I don't need him,_ she told herself.

As she got farther and farther away, though, her confidence faltered. She looked back, hoping that maybe she would see him following her. Hoping that he cared enough to make sure she was safe. It was a pointless hope; he wasn't following her. He didn't care. He probably hadn't even heard her.

"Jerk," she muttered to herself. She heard snarling and whipped around to face the threat. Four walkers were coming from the trees nearby. It didn't seem like they'd seen or heard her. Her heart pounded in her chest.  _I don't have to be afraid. I've done this before. It isn't new._

Quickly, she hid behind a tree. They would pass by, and she would continue on her journey to find some alcohol. It wasn't anything surprising or strange. As carefully as she could, she slid down the tree and picked up a rock at her feet. Beth turned so her side was against the bark. She threw the rock.

She couldn't see very well, couldn't risk looking out and having them find her. But while the other three had all gone for the rock, one was coming for  _her._ She drew the knife, trying to calm her breathing.  _It's okay, it's okay, it's okay,_ she repeated in her head.

It was right next to her tree - right on the other side - when it stopped. It looked around before following the other three. Beth didn't breath in relief, because it could still turn around and come at her. So she stood there, knife brought to her chest, waiting to see if there were anymore or if the others would come back.

When a few twigs rattled behind her, she twisted around, prepared to fight for her life. To her shock (but with some pleasant surprise) she found herself staring at Daryl. He had his crossbow ready, and was moving stealthily forward. He had followed her.

She didn't show her happiness at that. Her expression was more of one of acknowledgment than anything else. But she was thankful he had come. He just looked at her, not saying anything, before turning around and walking back the way he came.

Beth had to stop herself from letting out a frustrated sigh. He  _had_ come, after all. She could be happy with that. Still, he could at least help her in finding some alcohol.

She followed him, keeping quiet for a while. She hoped that maybe he would say something, anything. He could scold her for coming out here alone, tell her where they could find a drink, anything. Just whatever ended this damned silence.

He said nothing, so she took it upon herself to say something. "I think we made it away. I'm pretty sure we got to go that way to find the booze." She pointed in a direction, although his back was still to her. They turned at a tree and she continued walking until she felt something against her legs and heard something clattering.

Looking down, Beth saw the rope with the tire rims that she had put up early. It took her a moment but realization dawned on her. "The hell? You brought me back," she said accusingly. Why would he do that to her? She needed this.

"I'm not staying in this suck-ass camp." She flipped him off, turning around to get away from there.

He grabbed her arm. "Hey!"  _Finally!_  she screamed in her head,  _a sound._ That didn't stop her from fighting his grip. "You had your fun."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you feel anything?" He said nothing, so she continued on. "Yeah, you think everything's screwed. I guess that's a feeling. So you want to spend the rest of our lives staring into a fire and eating mud-snakes? Screw that! We might as well do something!" she exclaimed desperately. She couldn't do it. She couldn't live with his silence and this nothingness and this pain. She had to do something!

"I can take care of myself and I'm gonna get a damned drink." She left him, no longer caring if he followed or not. She was tired of it and she wouldn't just sit around, waiting for something to happen.

It did lift her spirits a little when she heard him behind her. She allowed herself a small smile; at least she wouldn't be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is nice. This is my first try at writing something different, as I normally stick to A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones. So let me know if I should write more Walking Dead or not.


End file.
